


The River's Overrun

by orsohelpme



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, Everything is Good and Nobody is Dead, F/F, F/M, Gen, Jean's Tumblr Famous, Jean's mom is referred to as just Mom, M/M, Marco's a Newly-Legal Adult Who Just Moved Out, Punk!Marco, The rest of his family will make an appearance in due time, This is literally just 3000+ words of me jacking off to an au i thought of, and cackling because i love slow burn, there's eren/jean here but it's small and one-sided, theres no jacking off involved though, theres not much slow burn here but just know that im waving slow burn threateningly at all of you, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-11 13:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2070897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orsohelpme/pseuds/orsohelpme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean's life has always been quiet and more than a little boring (he left the hell-raising to his four siblings) until Marco Bodt blows into town with a teal beanie and attitude to spare. From the outside he looks like the kind of guy who shoots up heroin behind the dumpster at your local Wal-Mart™. Jean comes to learn, through a series of increasingly embarrassing encounters, that he's a lot different than he looks. Ok, maybe not *completely* different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My eyes have once again been proven wrong

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of [an AU I made](http://radcoolswag.tumblr.com/post/84482554424/au-where-marco-is-the-punk-whos-tatted-up) like a month ago. 
> 
> Title is from [Swimming in the Flood](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K7vBkolujSY) by Passion Pit. Give it a listen while reading!

The first time Jean Kirschtein saw Marco Bodt, he was on the public bus.

It was 99 degrees out, and he saw the other walking down the street decked out completely in black, featuring leather and more black. Except for the teal beanie pulled down over his ears. He thought it was a miracle the kid didn’t pass out. That outfit must generate enough heat to melt a frying pan. _Frying pan?_ Yeah, a frying pan.

_Hooligan_. Jean turned away and decided to ponder the fact that he sounded like a 70-year-old geezer rather than a high schooler, and the stranger slipped from his mind.

\----

The second time Jean Kirschtein saw Marco Bodt, he was at work.

It was a bad day, and he had just finished ringing out a particularly nasty customer. The other slammed his books down on the counter with a sound of annoyance, and Jean looked up to meet dark brown eyes. His first thought was “Hey, that’s the kid with the death wish.” His second was, “He wears a lot of black.” His third was, “Oh, wait, he’s talking.”

“—so I just wanted to say that I really feel for you, man.”

“Uh. Huh?” Jean’s eyes snap back to the customer’s. He was totally not staring at his lip piercing. Or his eyebrow piercing. Or the gauges he had in his ears. He wasn’t staring at any of this guys many, many piercings, okay!!!!

“I feel for you. That guy was just a straight-up asshole.”

“Oh, the uh, customer?” _Don’t look at the tattoo peeking over the collar of his shirt either, Jean. That’s just rude. And more than a little creepy._

“Yeah, who else would I be talking about, dude?” There’s a tiny chuckle tacked to the end of the sentence, and Jean suddenly feels like he’s drowning because he has little to no idea what this guy just said.

“Well, thanks. I mean, I get it a lot. Customer service jobs and all.” He gestures lamely to the name tag pinned to the front of his shirt. _Maybe if I just start scanning his books I won’t have to talk to him…_

“Jean, huh?” Jean hides the wince of annoyance from his name being pronounced wrong.

“It’s actually Jean,” he corrects, accenting the J properly. “Like... it’s French.” _Because I’m a pretentious hipster with a foreign name; ooh la la!_

“Sorry. Jean.” And this time he rolls the J off his tongue properly.There are a few more seconds of silence, during which Jean debates if he should ask for his name as well. But the kid breaks the silence instead, offering it up for him. “Marco’s my name.”

“Marco. That’s a nice name.” He’s dying inside. He wants to climb up on the counter and scream it for everyone to hear: _I am terrible at conversation! I’m sorry I’m a giant pissbaby! Please direct your questions to someone less socially awkward! Thank you and have a nice day!_

Marco smiles anyways. “Thanks, my parents gave it to me.” It was a really bad joke, but Jean can’t resist the little smile it puts on his face. Which is quickly wiped off when Marco follows up with, “So…you gonna finish ringing me up?”

Jean stutters his way through an apology, gives him the total, counts out the change, and hands him the bag with an incredibly forced smile. “Have a nice day, thanks for coming in!”

Marco tosses him a wink and replies with, “Anytime.” Jean is left to wonder how many more hours of this hellish shift are left.

\----

The third time Jean Kirschtein sees Marco Bodt is later that night when he gets off of work.

He passes by the nichey coffee shop/diner called Titan’s Coffee House, usually favored by a few friends of his. The smell of roasted beans lingers in the air, and--you know what? He’s gonna get coffee tonight.

Chimes jingle against the aluminum door as he pushes it open, the smell of ground coffee beans rushing out past him. He breathes it in. God he loves coffee.

“Yo, Annie.” Jean greets the short blonde behind the counter with a curt nod. She returns the nod but not the greeting.

“Regular?” Annie already has her back to him, grabbing a cup to scribble his name on it and hand it off to the dark, gangly boy standing beside her. The antithesis of the girl next to him in almost every aspect, he nods when she mutters, “You know how he likes it,” and turns away from them both.

Jean groans in slight frustration, slinging his backpack around to rummage through it and slap a couple of crumpled dollars on the counter in front of her. “You didn’t even let me order.”

Annie snorts as she counts him his change. “You get the same thing every time you come in. And I’m not going to let you start changing your order all around. Bertholt has them all memorized.” Out of the corner of his eye, Jean sees the aforementioned prickle slightly.

“Annie.” Bertholt admonishes as he hands Jean the steaming cup. Jean snickers and pops the lid off, watching the two interact as he pours creamer into his coffee; because he’s a wimp who can’t drink it totally straight.

“What? If you’ve got a system, keep it.” She sprawls lazily against one of the over-large, expensive-looking coffee machines, blowing her bangs out of her eyes.

“Annie...” Bertholt replies, simply unable to communicate his irritation to her and begins rubbing his temples instead. Jean has to give the guy credit; between Annie and the other two dipshits who worked here, he had a lot to put up with daily.

There’s the cacophonous sound of at least six plates being dropped from the kitchen along with a loud string of cursing. _Speak of the devil._ Bertholt abandons his temple-rubbing in favor of closing his eyes and heaving a sigh. Annie mutters under her breath. “Unbelievable.”

It’s at that moment that Eren Jaeger kicks the swinging door that leads to the kitchen open. “Where’s the broom?”

“How many plates was that Jaeger?” Jean snickers. “Your IQ plus ten?” The shorter boy turns at the sound of Jean’s voice, locking eyes with him and immediately brightening.

“Jean, hey! I didn’t see you there. How was your shift?” He crosses his arms and leans against the partition separating them.

Rolling his eyes, Jean figures they’ll skip the witty banter and get straight to the part where they’re actually friends. Whatever. “Fine. I guess. Boring. Had an asshole who told me that because I took too long ringing him out he should get a discount. Never mind the fact that he had a fucking assload of books.” He’s looking anywhere but at Eren, scratching absentmindedly at his cheek. He can feel Annie’s smirk boring into the side of his head. _Nosy fucking bitch, I should--_

“Oh, that sucks dude. Yeah, I mean, I’ve only had this job for a few weeks, but I’ve had some crazy customers already!” Eren props his chin on his fist and heaves a sigh. “The other day some lady yelled at me because she thought I used milk on purpose and she was lactose intolerant? She was just so fucking annoying!”

“The reason you found her so annoying is because she was right. And you weren’t.” Annie butts in, shoving the broomstick in front of Eren’s nose.

“Yeah I _know_ I was wrong Annie, that’s why I didn’t call her an obsessive, annoying bitch to her face.” With a grimace, he takes the broom from her and leans against it. Instead of leaving to clean up the mess, which was what Annie had probably intended, he turns to speak to Jean--eyes bright. “Who’s the craziest customer you’ve ever gotten?”

Jean snorts. “There are too many to count.” He really hated working customer service jobs, but what else is there for a high school student? “You want the woman who asked me to point her towards the fanfiction section for her daughter? Because that was an adventure. There was a guy who asked me why the Bible wasn’t at the very front of the store, and that it was disrespectful for it to be anywhere else. There are tons more, but those are my favorites.” He waves a hand dismissively, taking a sip of his coffee.

“At least I haven’t had anyone really crazy yet.” Eren smirks.

“Well, you will sooner or later. Considering you’re obviously a shitty fucking worker.” He snorts again. _Boom-roasted. 1 point Jean, 0 points Jaeger. Now he’ll say something stupid back._

Eren’s eyes narrow, and the enraged expression endemic of a conversation between the two of them creeps onto his face. He opens his mouth, and for a second it looks like he’ll retaliate; but he seems to think better of it and closes it again. With a grumble and a dip of his head, he pushes his way back into the kitchen and out of sight.

Jean’s brow furrows. _The fuck?_ “What crawled up his butt and died? It was a joke.”

“Cut him some slack, Jean!” The sound of chimes and a booming voice fills the room, and Jean nearly spits out the coffee he just swallowed when a hand claps him on the back. Reiner Braun breezes behind the counter, slapping Bertholt’s ass and ruffling Annie’s hair as he goes. _Ever the socialite._ Jean grumbles internally and attempts to wipe coffee off his face. “I heard that he and Armin got in a fight, and Mikasa _sided with Armin!_ ”

“Yeah?” Jean quirks an eyebrow as he daubs at his shirt. “Is that a big deal or some shit?”

“Uh, yeah, because I don’t recall that _ever_ happening before.” Reiner folds his arms on the partition between them, brow furrowed.

“Mikasa’s sided with Armin before,” Annie butts in before Jean can, idly twirling a loose strand of hair. “She actually makes quite a habit of it. Because Armin’s usually right.”

Reiner turns to give her a smirk. “I’m sure you’d know all about Mikasa’s _sides_ , Annie.”

Three things happened in quick succession then: Annie’s face turned bright red (an unusual occurrence, by the look on Reiner’s face), Jean let out a boisterous cackle, and the chimes on the door jingled to signify the entrance of another customer. All four stunned and/or reddened faces turned to see the freckled visage of Marco Bodt.

“Uh, hi?” Marco calls tentatively from the doorway. “Am I... interrupting something?”

“No! Not at all!” Jean turns in shock to see Bertholt calling back in what has to be the most chipper tone he’s ever heard out of the boy. “Welcome to Titan’s Coffee House! How can I help you?”

“I was just wondering if you were hiring at all...?” Marco approaches the counter with a wince.

Reiner chuckles, grabbing a sheet of paper from under the counter and holding it out to the other teen. “We’re pretty much always hiring. Our boss is a fright--scares off more employees than he keeps. And...” His gaze sweeps across the huge, empty restaurant portion of the diner. “With a store like this we can use all the help we can get. Even if it seems dead right now.”

With a monotone voice and a pointed glare towards the kitchen door, Annie adds under her breath, “I hope you don’t break shit all the time.”

Marco lets a smile slip and takes the paper from Reiner. “I’m not very clumsy, but I have my moments.” Annie grunts quietly and makes her way into the kitchen as well, where there are sounds of glass shards clinking together. “So, should I fill this out now and leave it with you?”

Reiner shrugs, offering him a pen. “Whatever you wanna do. I know it’s a little intimidating filling out an application while in the store!” Marco offers another smile and takes the pen, eyes sliding across the store, unintentionally meeting with Jean’s. It’s at this moment Jean realizes he’d been staring at this entire exchange, slightly slack-jawed. And that, by default, makes him look like a total weirdo. _Fuck._

“Oh, hey! Jean, right?” Marco graces the cafe with another smile, this time aimed at Jean. He finds that he’s suddenly lost his words.

“Uh. Um. Yeah. Jean. Marco, right?” _Nice save, bro. String together enough words and soon you’ve got yourself something halfway coherent._

Marco chuckles, nodding slightly. “Oh, you remembered me! I’m glad I left an impression,” he said smoothly with a sideways smile. “How do you take yours?”

Jean can feel his face turning red. This sounds lewd for some reason. Why does that sound lewd? “Um. Take what?” The taller of the two boys gestures to the coffee cup he’s currently holding. Jean looks down at it. He’s an idiot. “Oh. Just straight coffee, really.” He giggles nervously. _I just fucking giggled._

“Oh. Straight, huh?” Marco raises an eyebrow.

“Nah, not totally straight. Jean likes to say he drinks his coffee totally black, but there’s a shit ton of creamer in there.” Reiner butts into the conversation, Jean glares at him. “He’s a sneaky little asshole, though. Hiding it from everyone so he can still say he drinks it straight.” Reiner and Bertholt share a knowing smile. Marco’s grin is bright enough to light up the room, and he tosses them a wink.

Jean feels like something just went over his head here. He glances between the three of him in confusion, but they’re just staring back with slightly smug grins on their faces. It’s _really_ annoying him. “What?”

Marco turns his attention back to the pair standing behind the counter. “So, I can just fill this out and turn it in later? Would tomorrow work?”

“Tomorrow would actually be better! Our manager’s in from 12 to 5, so just drop it off sometime, and he’ll probably talk to you right away!” Bertolt gives Marco a tiny smile, adding, “But, uh, like Reiner said. He’s a terror.”

“Thanks guys! I...don’t think I caught your names?”

“I’m Reiner Braun.” Bertholt makes a small ‘eep!’ sound as Reiner throws his arm over the boy’s shoulder and pulls him close. “And this handsome devil next to me is Bertholt.”

Marco grins again (seriously does this kid ever stop smiling?) and holds out his hand. “I’m Marco. Marco Bodt.”

Reiner takes his hand and shakes forcefully. “Pleased to meet you! Don’t think I’ve seen you around here before though. D’you just move here?”

Marco nods. “Yeah, just this week, actually! I used to live over in Stohess.”

“Oh, Stohess? That’s quite a nice city. Why’d you leave?” Bertholt shakes Marco’s hand as well, head tilted slightly.

Marco dismisses the question with a shrug. “Kind of a long story. Maybe I’ll tell it another time?” And with that, he turns away. “Guess I’ll see you guys tomorrow! It was nice to meet you! And good to see you again too, Jean!” The sound of bells fills the room before Jean can even respond. Reiner turns to him with that trademark shit-eating grin on his face.

Jean glares back. “What?”

“He was quite attractive, wasn’t he?”

By some miracle, Jean manages to keep from choking on his coffee. “I-if you’re into that kind of thing, I guess.”

“What, the “bad boy” look?” Reiner snorts and Bertholt hides a smile behind his hand. With a roll of his eyes, Jean waves and makes his exit as well.

\----

When he gets home, there’s already the smell of garlic drifting from the kitchen; along with the sounds of banging pots and faint humming. He kicks off his shoes at the door and shifts his shitty backpack onto one shoulder.

“Mom! I’m home!”

Mrs. Kirschtein appears in the open doorway that leads to the kitchen in all her motherly glory: aproned and holding a wooden spoon. He kisses her on the cheek and moves past her into the kitchen as she asks the obligatory, “How was your day?”

For a few moments, he’s too busy opening pot lids and peering inside to register the question. “Oh! Good, I guess. Had an awful customer though. I got coffee on my way home, s’why I was late. Sorry.”

Mom chuckles and swats his hand away from the stove, muttering, “You’ll burn yourself, dumbo!” With a grumble, he moves to lean against the counter instead.

Jean notices that his mom looks serious stirring what’s in that pot. Really serious. Any serious face Mrs. Kirschtein makes is labeled as Entirely Too Serious by her son immediately, and Something That Must Be Remedied ASAP. A smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth as he pushes his backpack on top of his head, pulling the straps down and turns to make a face at the woman next to him.

“Huuuurgh.” _Gotta sell it!_

Mom is completely unimpressed, or is at least attempting to look as such. He knows she found it funny. With a grin he drops his backpack down to its proper place. "Sophie and Dad still working on the car?"

Mom groans in annoyance as a response. "Honestly, they come in so dirty I'm tempted to make them shower before they're allowed at the table." Jean hisses in annoyance as his mom swats his hand away from the breadbasket on the counter with her spoon. "No stealing!"

"At least they're bonding or whatever. I think Dad's been lonely since Jackie left. He always liked her more than he liked me or Arnie."

"Parents don’t pick favorites." Comes Mom's all-knowing response, as she swats Jean's hand away from the bread again without batting an eye. "But Jackie and Daddy didn't get along as well as you seem to remember."

"Well they did more stuff together than Arnie or I did with him. They bickered but I still think they were close."

"Like I said: parents don't pick favorites."

"Which is exactly why Sophie and Dad are in the garage right now, fixing a car together."

"Because Sophie happens to like cars, Jean."

Jean holds up his hands defensively. "I'm not saying she doesn't! I'm just saying the most 'bonding' I ever do with Dad is when we make fun of those dumb TV commercials together."

“Well you and Daddy don’t have a lot in common, Jean. Does it really bother you that much? Do you want to spend more time with him?” Her brow creases as she flips the switches on the stove--apparently whatever she was making is done. “Hand me a strainer?”

He does just so; opening a cupboard and standing on his tiptoes to reach the strainer on the top shelf. Jean hands it to her and replies with, “Nah. I know Dad and I wouldn’t really...I dunno...enjoy spending all that much time together.” While he’s pacifying his mom, he busies himself with taking down plates and cups from the cabinets next to her. “Besides. I’m like, 17. It’s not like I wanna spend that much time with you guys anyways.” It’s grumbled quietly, but he knows she still hears it.

Mom turns to him with a knowing grin on her face.

“What?” Jean can feel his face turning red all of a sudden.

“Nothing.”

“...Whatever.” With a scoff and ears turning red, he turns back to what he was doing.

“Pass me a bowl, hun.” Jean does so, and they work in quiet silence; Mom putting the finishing touches on the food and Jean setting the table. As she brings everything over, she adds, “Go tell your father and Sophie that dinner’s ready, will you?”

“Henri upstairs?”

“No, they’re staying over at a friend’s for tonight, so it’s just us four!”

“Should I tell Sophie and Dad to actually take a shower before they can eat?” There’s a smirk playing about the corner of his mouth, and although he’s walking away from her, his mom can probably hear it in his voice.

With a matching smirk, she replies. “No. If they get the kitchen dirty, I can guilt them into cleaning it.”

Jean throws his head back, cackling as he pushes open the door to the garage to alert his family of food.

\----

After dinner’s done and everything’s been washed, Jean finds himself in his room. The first thing he does is throw his shitty backpack on his bed, and the second thing he does is open his laptop. He had left a bunch of messages unanswered before he left for work, and it had been bothering him.

Jean logs into his favorite website-- _Tumblr, because I’m a pretentious hipster!_ \--to find that the asks in his inbox had grown from 24 to almost 80. _Shit_. With a sigh, he leans back in his computer chair. This was probably in response to that theory he posted about Link being dead in Majora’s Mask. It’s one that’s fairly well-known (he wasn’t even the one who originally thought of it--he just wanted an easy post for once), but there are still a few stragglers to this one apparently.

A quick glance at the first few in his inbox assert his suspicions that most askers are angry. He’s not sure why. Not like it’s a really bad theory, he thought it was really interesting!

Might as well start sifting through them. This’ll be a long night. Jean doesn’t work until eleven tomorrow anyways, so he should be good.

With a sigh, he leans forward once more and begins the long process of placating upset gamers.


	2. Your clouds, your blanket, and my pity song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You got: Marco's Number! Good job!  
> Player Henri has joined your party!  
> You've met a new challenger: Your Phone!

Jean had only been at work for an hour, and already he was bored out of his mind. Some days were slower than others, and today was definitely one of those days. While Jean appreciated the respite from the usual break-neck pace working in a bookstore _somehow_ required (which was not what he had signed up for) he still the found the store eerily dead. Which also meant eerily boring.

With a sigh, he lifts his forehead from where it had been on the counter to prop it up on a fist instead. A glance around the store informs him that nothing had changed since he put his head down: Thomas was still stocking books, Maura was still working on that catalogue thing she had mentioned, and the elderly couple reading had made no move to do anything other than read anytime soon.

The doorbell chimes and Jean’s eyes snap to the front of the store to see none other than Marco standing in the doorway, teal beanie and all. Marco tosses a glance around the store as well, spotting Jean behind the counter and approaching with a growing smile.

“Jean! Quiet today, huh?” Marco keeps his voice low, moving to lean against the opposite side of the counter.

Jean fights the strangely giddy smile he feels growing as he nods in response, straightening up from his slouch. It probably showed anyway. “I’ve only been here an hour, but I have a feeling it’ll be this dead all day.”

Marco heaves a sigh and props his chin on a fist, glancing up at Jean. “Must be nice, man. My old job was always crazy busy.”

“Where did you work?” He’s not sure what makes him ask, but there’s something about Marco that seemed like he leads conversations exactly where he wanted them to go, and something that made Jean interested in following exactly where Marco wanted him to.

“Burger joint in Stohess. Super popular.” Marco shrugs, straightening up as well. “I knew what I was getting into though. Can’t stand sitting still for too long, that’s why I go for food service jobs. They’re usually really fast-paced. But I’ll apply to a bookstore if I ever get tired of working in a busy place.” There’s a smirk tacked to that last sentence, and Jean can feel himself rising to the bait.

“Hell, this place gets busy. Busier than I thought it would be when I applied. You saw what it was like in here yesterday? It’s like that everyday. Not what I expected from a bookstore, to be honest.”

“Oh, damn, yesterday was crazy, dude. That guy who yelled at you for not ringing him out quick enough? Fuck, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you climbed over the counter and punched him in the face.” Marco snorts. “What an asshole.”

Jean bites the inside of his lip as Marco turns to gaze across the tiny building. “Yeah, we get a lot of nutsos in here. There was this, um, one woman who asked me to show her where the fanfiction section was for her daughter.” He clears his throat awkwardly, finding his eyes drifting back to the tattoo peeking over the collar of Marco’s shirt.

Marco turns back to Jean with a sparkle in his eye. “How’d you wiggle your way out of that one?”

Jean scratches at his cheek absentmindedly, mumbling down towards the counter. “Told her to go check Barnes and Noble.” Marco throws his head back and laughs, ringing out across the store. Maura looks up at him disapprovingly from the other side of the store. Jean’s cheeks are pink but he’s grinning conspiratorially as he attempts to shush his newly-made friend. _Friend. Not every day one of those comes along in this place._

“Fuck, that was genius.” The other boy half-whispers after he’s quieted. “Oh my god, the poor sucker at Barnes and Noble who had to explain what fanfiction was. Holy shit.” He half-snorts again, eyes still twinkling.

“Yeah, she was my favorite customer.” Jean’s really enjoying himself, which is rare for him when talking with someone he’d only met yesterday. “Who was your favorite?”

“Oh man, gimme a second.” Marco pulls a ridiculously funny thinking face, scrunching up one half of his face and staring up at the ceiling. “Damn, I don’t know. I haven’t had anyone who was crazy, but I had someone tell me that their burger smelled funny once. Pretty much as weird as it gets.”

“Still funny, though. What does that even mean? Like...was it bad or did it just smell weird? That doesn’t make any sense at all.” Jean chuckles at the idea.

Marco snorts. “Dude, I know. But anyways, that was pretty much the weirdest it ever got there. We were just super busy 90% of the time, and everyone was just angry we weren’t moving fast enough.”

“Like here. Except here it’s 100% of the time.” There’s a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, and Marco is rolling his eyes in response.

“Yeah, whatever. Actually, that’s why I’m back here today. I didn’t get a chance to ask yesterday because I didn’t want to bother anyone, but there was this book I couldn’t find!”

Jean’s shoulder droop slightly in disappointment at that. _It’s...not like I wanted him to come back to see me or anything, I just-- **Holy shit I sound like an anime character**._ Let’s move away from thinking right now, Jean.

“Yeah! Yeah, sure, uh, what book were you...looking for?”

“John Dies at the End.”

“Oh! Yeah, I’ve read that one.” Jean moves around the counter and motions for Marco to follow him. “That should be over in young adult.” He leads the other teen to the wall of the store covered in racks dedicated to the coveted YA genre. “Mmmm let’s see, Wong would be...” He trails his fingers over the spines alphabetically until he reaches ‘W,’ locating the book and shimmying it out. He turns and hands it to the taller boy. “There you go, dude.”

Marco grins like Jean just handed him the sun. Jean’s still not entirely sure what this guy’s shtick is. He decides to enjoy the sunny disposition until he uncovers the awful, terrible, blood-spattered secrets that smile hides. _Blood-spattered secrets, that sounds so cool._

“Want me to ring you up? Or did you need to find something else?”

“Nah that’s all I needed. Thanks dude!” Marco starts leading the way back to the register. Jean follows because he has to and it’s his job. He has absolutely no problem following Marco though because  apparently has the nicest ass this side of the fuckin Mississippi. Who is he to keep the cold hard facts from the public?

Jean ponders how far from straight he is for a few seconds. And then goes back to admiring Marco’s ass. And the tattoos stretching down the backs of his arms. But **mostly** his ass. _Shit this is bad_.

"Why did you come back today, by the way? Like, personally I would've just ordered the book online. Probably because I would be too lazy to walk all the way back the next day." He shimmies behind the counter and swipes into the register with the badge on the lanyard he keeps around his neck.

Marco tosses him a smirk. "What you don't want to see me?"

He chokes on his own spit. "Wh-what? No no that's not what I meant at all, I'm sorry if. If that's what it sounded like? Oh god sorry that sounded so--"

"Dude, chill!" The other cuts him off with a tiny chuckle. "It was a joke!"

"O-oh." Jean feels his shoulders lose all of their tension.

"Damn, you get worked up really easily huh?" Jean feels like there should be a sneer that comes with that, and...yep there it is. That was totally an innuendo. Of course it was.

His face is not turning pink, Jean doesn’t care WHAT you think. He decides to play it off by rolling his eyes. “Ha ha ha. You’re just a goddamn comedian, aren’t you?”

Marco jokingly wiggles his eyebrows, “Oh definitely. I do stand up in my free time, can’t you tell?” He shoots Jean a pair of finger guns with a matching wink, and he snickers in response. “Comedy doesn’t pay well, though, Jean. Gotta make some money on the side, if you know what I mean.”

“What are you a hooker or something?”

“I am OFFENDED. I’ll have you know the proper term is sex-worker.”

“So you _are_ a hooker?” Jean drops his voice conspiratorially.

“Sex-worker, but no. Remember how yesterday I said I’d swing by and talk to the manager of the coffee house?”

“So you’re a comedian who moonlights as a hooker and a barista.”

“ _Sex-worker_. My resumé is pretty impressive, isn’t it?”

“I would’ve thought you were a model on the side, if anything,” he says bluntly.

Marco places a hand on his chest with a tiny laugh. “Jean, did you just call me pretty?”

Jean’s face is immediately red again. He’s actually sure that his entire body is red right now. “I...” How the fuck does he recover from that? _Panic, Kirschtein, panic. Abort mission, return to basic training, and revert to plan E69B: exit situation with dignity intact._ “That’ll be $21.66 please.”

A smirk tugs at the corners of Marco’s mouth at the other’s sudden change of pace, but he plays along and yanks a 20 and a 5 out of a pocket. Jean manages to count out the change and hand it back to Marco without making a fool of himself. “Thanks, Jean.”

Jean, the dork lord himself, nods slightly in response. “Good luck with your interview thing.”

Marco nods, a tiny smile working its way back onto his face. “Hey, thanks! If all goes well I’ll hopefully be working there soon, hm?” He has no idea why, but Jean’s face colors (again) at that thought. “Oh, yeah, I wanted to give you this.” The other slides a scrap of paper across the counter towards Jean, who holds it up with confusion written plainly on his face.

“...What is it?” There are numbers written on it. Are they like, a math equation, or something? Is Marco a math teacher? Why is he making him do math in the middle of his shift?

There’s a scoff from across the counter. “My number?” Jean thought it was physically impossible for his face to be any more red, but he thinks he’s just broken all known laws of physics and blood flow. “Alright, I’m off!” The freckled mystery of a boy shoots him a wink before turning on his heel and striding out of the store.

Jean is left to stare dazedly after said mystery, mind playing static in place of coherent thoughts. He’ll be lucky to get through this shift without incident.

He slams his head down on the counter with a sigh. There’s a snicker behind him and he looks up to see Thomas shimmying behind the counter on his way to grab refill price stickers with a smirk plastered on his face.

“You’ve got it bad, bro.”

Jean groans and slams his head down again.

\----

He doesn’t get off until 6 that night. He finds he’s okay with this, though, because that means he still has time to swing by the coffee shop. Jean debates taking the bus or walking home while on his way to the coffeehouse. It’s definitely a nice enough day to walk home--still a few hours of sun left and it’s relatively cool.

It’s at that exact moment that he hears the telltale sound of skateboard wheels on pavement and the drawn-out shout of “Yooo!” from behind him. He steps a bit to the left with little thought put into the action and turns to watch as a figure (presumably one on a skateboard) rockets towards him at a speed that would worry his mom and terrify his grandmother.

With boisterous whoop, the mysterious skateboarder jumps off the board to land in front of Jean, arms thrown in the air.

_Player Henri has joined your party!_

“Your board is going to go into traffic.” He deadpans in response to the show. With a sigh, Henri drops their arms.  “Go get it, asshole.”

“C’mon, bro, at least act like you were surprised.” They shift their arms to their hips. Jean takes a moment to take them in--lanky, comes up to his shoulder, light hair shaved at the sides, light brown eyes, and a nose almost the exact same shape as his.

“The only thing I’m surprised about is that fact you could tell it was me.”

Henri rolls their eyes in response. “Please. With that dye job, bro, I could spot you from outerspace.” With a click of the tongue, they skip off to grab their board from where it had bounced to a stop against a nearby bush, and _not_ \--as Jean had predicted--rolled into traffic.

Jean scoffs at the comment and follows after his younger sibling. “We all know you admire my haircut, Hen. Why else d’you shave your head like that, huh?”

Henri chuckles and tugs at their bangs sticking out from under their beanie. “Cuz it picks up chicks, Johnny-boy.”

“Oh, totally. Look at ‘em all. Hanging off of you.”

“You’re one to talk, you giant dork.”

“You’re the dork here, remember? We’ve talked about this. You’re the dork, I’m the nerd.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, bro.”

Jean smiles and slings an arm around the younger teen’s shoulders. “That does help me sleep at night, Hen, thank you for your understanding.”

Henri slings their board under their arm and reaches up to ruffle Jean’s hair in response. “You finally off work?”

“Finally. I was gonna head to the coffeehouse, you wanna come?” He winks at the shorter conspiratorially. “My treat.” Jean busies himself with patting his hair back into place.

“Well how could any self-respecting teen say no to free coffee?”

Jean chuckles and tugs them towards the coffeehouse, and they both fall into step together. “Whose house did you stay over at last night?”

“Quinn’s. She got a new puppy.” Henri looks up and clenches their fist dramatically. “It’s so flippin’ cute.”

"Quinn...Have I ever met Quinn?" Jean taps his chin thoughtfully. It's hard keeping track of your younger sibling's friends, sometimes.

"She was probably at my birthday? I know she's been over to the house a lot." Henri shrugs. "Taller than me? Dark skin? Hella curly hair?"

"Oh, yeah yeah. She's in drama club with you."

His sibling clicks their tongue. "That's the one!"

“So did you only go over there for the puppy or...?” Jean asks tentatively. He doesn’t want to assume the worst but Henri has been known to hang with certain people specifically for their dogs.

Henri snorts in response to the question as if it’s the dumbest question any 15-year-old has ever heard. “No. Jesus Jean, I’m sure you use people for their dogs but Quinn happens to be my very best friend.”

“Okay first of all that is literally the most hypocritical thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth. Up until like two years ago the only reason you visited friends was for their dogs.” The taller rebuts as he disentangles himself to pull open the door to the coffeehouse.

“Yeah but I am a changed human, Johnny-boy. I have mended my dog-stealing ways, and now only hang out with friends that I love.” Henri slips under their older brother’s arm and into the building. “Their dogs are just a bonus.”

“Oh so you _looove_ Quinn huh? Should I be worried? Maybe have a chat with her?” Jean leans over to flash a smirk directly in Henri’s face, who just shoves him away.

Jean, laughing, waves at Annie and Reiner behind the counter. Ymir nods at him from her post near the bus cart. The restaurant is filled with the sounds of conversation and cutlery as the two rambunctious siblings make their way through it.

“Yo, Henri!” Reiner practically yells and Henri excitedly reaches their hand over the counter to perform their super-secret-handshake. “What’s Jean teasing you about this time, huh?”

“Henri’s got a _girlfriend_ ~.” Jean singsongs and the younger’s cheeks turn pink as he laughs.

“A girlfriend huh?” Annie raises her eyebrow in amusement while Reiner hoots excitedly.

“She’s not my girlfriend!” The blonde reaches up to muss at their hair in embarrassment.

“Alright, alright Hen I’ll take your word for it.” Jean pats his sibling’s shoulder comfortingly. “But I’ll be keeping an eye on this Quinn!”

“Like you’re really one to talk.” Annie grumbles.

Henri’s eyes light up immediately. “What’s that supposed to mean???”

“It means _nothing_ ,” Jean level a glare at the tiny blonde across from him who just smirks. “Order, Henri.”

Henri rolls their eyes at the obvious evasion tactic but goes along with it. Reiner’s in the process of making their fraps and trying to subtly convey to Henri that he’ll text the deets (which really isn’t going that well considering Jean knows exactly what he’s saying) when he decides to just pluck up the courage and ask.

“So uh, did Marco get the job?”

Annie’s smirk terrifies him. “Why do you ask, Jean?”

His face colors. “Why do you _think_ asshole, because I want to _know_ \--”

“Who’s Marco?” Henri interjects, casual as anything, as they stick a straw into their drink.

Reiner’s eyes light up. “WELL Henri, Marco is our newest employee! And Jean over here just happens to--”

“BE FRIENDS WITH HIM!” Jean shouts, face burning. There’s a pause in the atmosphere as patrons turn to look at him. He clears his throat and turns to Henri. “I met him while I was at work. We’re friends.”

Henri’s expression rivals Annie’s on the terrifying scale. “Oh really? Friends?” Their voice drops to something dark and teasing. “Should I be _worried_ , Jean?”

Reiner snorts and slides Jean’s frap to him. “Karma’s a bitch isn’t it, bro?”

“Fuck off Reiner.” And then Jean grabs his drink and turns, flipping them off to the sound of raucous laughter from his traitorous younger sibling and meddling friends.

\----

Later that night, Jean is laying on his bed, staring at his phone. His phone is, similarly, laying on his bed and staring at him. Well not staring really, _challenging_ him would be a better word.

Why can’t he work up the nerves to text Marco? He had already saved him as a contact. He may or may not have put some stupid heart emoji next to it. He’d already subjected himself to the torment of knowing that this....adorable, sweet, tattooed, pierced and _incredibly hot_ guy was in his phone and willing to text him back. And he’d also subjected himself to the knowledge that if anyone ever found out which emojis he had added he’d be teased mercilessly.

Jean sighed and buried his face in his pillow. God he was such a dork. Literally he’d had three conversations with the guy and already the butterflies were a thing. It was embarrassing and uncool and something that totally would happen to him anyways.

_There’s only one solution...._

He reached for his phone and unlocked it. “Goddammit Jean.” And then he opened the tumblr app instead of the messaging one. Because he was a wimp who needed encouragement. Groaning he typed out something stupid:

**Hey guys! Um, I need a bit of advice or encouragement or something here.....there’s this guy that I like and he gave me his number. Basically I’m asking what I should say? This is so lame but I have no idea how to talk to people that I’m crushing on. Because I’m lame.**

**oh my god someone please help me**

He continued groaning as he posted it and locked his phone and covered his eyes. God he was going to regret that. It’s not like his followers were _mean_ that was just embarrassing and he probably shouldn’t have said anything.

His phone pinged. And then pinged again. It was only after several more pings that he reached over to see the ruckus.

**“dont be scared jean!!!!!!!! just think of it like texting a new friend!!!!!!! :D”**

**“I’m the same way! I always calm myself down by thinking how the other person probably feels something similar. You can do it!”**

**“bro trust me when i say that whatever hesitance you feel isnt as bad as what he felt before giving you his number in the first place”**

**“ok look you can DO this you just gotta buck up and DO it so jut DO IT!!!!! MAKE IT HAPPEN!! GO TEXT THAT CHOICE PIECE OF ASS THERES NOTHING STPPING YOU ECEPT YOURSELF!!!!!!!”**

**“just start with hi!”**

Jean smiled and buried his face in his pillow once more.

“Might as well.”

8:26 To: marco

hey its jean

8:49 From: marco

hey jean!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow its taken me long to update this. it took way too long tbh! this isnt like, one of my MAIN ships anymore because ive kinda moved on from the snk fandom but im really fond of this fic and of all of these characters so (/□＼*)・゜ here i am!! please forgive me!!!!!!!!  
> im gonna update sooner this time!!!!! ( •̀ᄇ• ́)ﻭ✧  
> this fic has turned into my excuse to use like a thousand fic tropes and be kinda lazy and u kno what im ok w it . end of story. its too fun to write for me to really care anymore.  
> [scream @ me on the trunblr](https://raspberryslut.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one is FINISHED WHOO HOO!!! This took me an ungodly amount of time, but I was pushed through it by my absolutely INCREDIBLE beta [weirdvegetablething](http://weirdvegetablething.tumblr.com) over on tumblr.
> 
> Ok, so here we only got a little snippet of Jean's family but I PROMISE they'll all show up sooner or later and they will be GLORIOUS and LOUD and MORE THAN A LITTLE QUEER!!! If...anyone has any question please please please feel free to ask!!!! Comments & reviews are SO INCREDIBLY WELCOME!!!
> 
> [Catch me on Tumblr!](http://radcoolswag.tumblr.com)


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